


Those Nights Are Making Me Starstruck and Metal

by something_safe



Category: Bandom RPF, Comics RPF, Hesitant Alien - Gerard Way (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alien AU, Alien Gerard/Human Grant, Gerard has some weird gender stuff going on but uses male pronouns, Gerard/Grant, Gerard/Lindsey (one day if I ever get up off my ass and write the follow up), Hallucinogenic kisses, Legitimately though he's an alien, Multi, No one is entirely sure what's going on with his junk, Orchid dick or something, Other, Platinum hair Gerard, Ridiculously vague spaceship descriptions, Yeah this is kinda a fic about that, alien junk, first time!fic, hesitant alien au, including him, remember that video of MCR onstage where Frank says Gerard's dick is a flower?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6631429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/something_safe/pseuds/something_safe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Grant blinks the strange, coloured rain from his eyes as he pulls away and sits back to finally look at what Gerard is so convinced he’s going to freak out at. </i>
</p><p>  <i>He stares, and then glances up, and grins helplessly. </i></p><p>  <i>“You’re right, that’s pretty weird.”</i></p><p>  <i>“Grant-!” Gerard protests, covering his face with his hands. </i></p><p>  <i>“No- no, it’s not- it’s not bad, it’s- shit, I just have no idea where to start.” </i></p><p><i>Gerard was right, there’s no guarantee there’s a dick anywhere here. There’s no guarantee there’s anything Grant would consider vaguely humanoid here. The only way Grant can even begin to describe it is… floral.</i><br/>**</p><p>Gerard is a translator working on a merchant space ship. He happens to be dating the Captain of said space ship, Grant Morrison. He also happens to be a psychic alien with unusual junk. Grant doesn't know what to do with it but he's totally down for having a go. Ridiculous alien first times ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Nights Are Making Me Starstruck and Metal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [releasethebatsss](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=releasethebatsss).



> This was a gift for my BFF, following a long-winded conversation about what would happen if Gerard really was an alien who worked with Space Captain Grant Morrison because we are ridiculous. 
> 
> Remember when Frank Iero said on stage one time that Gerard's dick looked like a flower? Yeah, this is sorta about that. 
> 
> Note: In this fic, Gerard is intersex but loosely uses male pronouns, though he's pretty easy going about it. If anyone has any issues about any of the terminology used, feel free to educate me further on the matter <3<3

Grant is watching Gerard again. He can’t help it, it’s been six months since he hired him and he’s still baffled every time he looks his way at how anyone could be so fucking... shit, beautiful.  

 Inhumanly beautiful, actually, with his odd genetics. Humanoid, vaguely, though softer featured than most. Pearly-grey skinned and violet blooded, with silvery hair that hangs in his eyes while he works. The plate glass behind him is bathing him in starlight, and as he looks up from his screen and catches Grant watching, his mouth crooks in a slow smile.

 “Are uh- are you okay?”

 Grant nods. He shakes himself a bit, stood in the door, and moves forward with the two disposable coffee cups. Immediately, Gerard holds his hands out. Grant grins and pauses just out of reach.

 “Dinner tonight? At mine?”

 “I’ve got work to do…” Gerard raises an eyebrow, but he’s still smiling, a peachy, lilac tinged blush spreading across his cheeks, patterned with dappled markings.

 “What if you get the boss to give you a night off? I’m sure the old slave driver wouldn’t mind you going for some dinner with the love of your life.”

 Another smile, this time wider.

 “I dunno, he’s been a real hardass lately,” he says, shrugging gently, “grumpy all the time, throwing his weight around, being lazier than usual.”

 “What a tyrant,” Grant feels a prickle of warmth in the pit of his belly.  Gerard barely ever threads on when Grant is teasing him- plays along even less.

 “Oh, yeah. A real stickler.”

 Grant hums; holds the coffee aloft and leans down to kiss Gerard, grinning when he turns bruised violet with it. He loves this fucking nerd, he thinks, watching him recover.

 “I’ll uh- I’ll ask him,” Gerard says, and at Grant’s answering quirk of an eyebrow he grins wider; exposes tiny, sharp teeth. “Want to give me the night off so I can to come over for dinner tonight?”

 Grant hands him the coffee.

 “Oh all right. But only ‘cause you’re so pretty.”

 “Thanks,” Gerard sips, then sets the cup down, his hand snagging in Grant’s jacket pocket as he looks back at his screen; types one handed on the glass keyboard he’s pulled up, “can you give me another hour?  I’m in talks with Artemis about that shipment on the eighth moon, what’s it called, Despar.”

 “What if I can’t?” Grant says mildly.

 “I’ll uh, I’ll say the signal went down.” He flashes those pretty eyes at him, silver eyelashes. Grant’s heart hurts to look at him.

 “Right answer. Come find me in an hour. I’m cooking, don’t be late okay?”

 “Yes sir. Don’t forget-”

 “No dairy, no meat, no citrus, I got it.” Grant rolls his eyes.

 Gerard doesn’t release him straight away, just gazes at him, then he fists his jacket tighter and pulls him down for another kiss before he picks his coffee back up and takes a gulp. Grant makes himself turn and walk out of the room before he grins. Quickly, he pulls his compad out of his pocket and messages Zoid.

  _ >>Definitely happening tonight. Definitely. _

_Hopefully._

_Definitely. << _

 He’s wandered through the artificially sunlit halls and bought a few bits for dinner- some food, mostly stuff for Gee- from the refectory shop before she messages back, and he can feel her eyeroll even through the screen.

  _ >>You’re pathetic. I hope it does just so you stop fkin going on about it. Godspeed.<< _

 He snorts at that; sends her back a fuck off symbol and gets in the lift.

 --

 

Gerard arrives ten minutes late, but Grant thought it would be twenty, so he’s pretty impressed.

 “I’m sorry- I got-”

 “Distracted? I’m shocked.”

 “I bought dessert,” Gerard says, which Grant wasn’t expecting, and before he can ask- “it’s cake!”

 Laughing, Grant shakes his head and takes the box, giving Gerard an appreciative hug before he puts it in the fridge. He herds Gee into the living room then; sets him up with drink on the indoor balcony and smiles when Gerard immediately gets sucked into watching the stars sail by.

 “S’a little choppy tonight,” he says absently.

 “Yeah…” Grant doesn’t mean to be monosyllabic, but he’d much rather watch Gee than stars. Fuck, Lindsey’s right, he is pathetic.

 “Dinner’ll burn,” Gerard tells him, without even looking at how Grant has settled with his shoulder against the arch of the doorframe to stare at his profile some more.

 “Spoilsport,” Grant says, and he goes to rescue their food.

 When he returns, Gerard is stood up against the glass, hands splayed, delicate and long fingered and a tad freakily jointed, by Grant’s reckoning. He’s taken the smooth, heat resistant bandages off that he usually wears on his hands, and he looks about as close to human as Grant has ever seen him look, small and full of awe. Sometimes Grant forgets he was on an industrial planet most of his life; that he never saw the stars up close before he agreed to let Grant kidnap him.

 At the glide of the door, Gerard turns around, and he’s himself again, pale and elfin and stranger than anything. They sit down to eat, Gerard shoving his sleeves up to reveal the bruise-like patches on his arms, concentrated little tiles of pigment, from freckle to fingerprint in size.

 “Stop staring,” he chastises gently, and Grant looks down quickly at his plate, mumbling an apology.

 “I can’t help it, you’re just, I…” he shrugs, and when he looks up, Gerard is watching him now instead. Smiling, though. Blushing.

 “Yeah. I. Me too,” he says simply. It doesn’t mean anything, really, but Grant still understands.

 They talk while they eat, laughing and prodding fun, and Grant can’t help but reflect on how fucking shy Gerard is around other people; how little he used to speak. It isn’t wasted on him, the effort it must have taken for him to come around to Grant; make himself talk to him.

 “You didn’t exactly make it easy for me to ignore you,” Gerard says, suddenly.

 Grant swears quietly. “Don’t do that mind reading shit when I’m reflecting on how weird I’ve been whilst trying to get you to date me.”

 “I can’t help it,” Gerard blushes, but he knows Grant isn’t really annoyed, “you fucking transmit like hell, it’s way worse when people are thinking directly about me.”

 “I was not,” Grant lies pointlessly. Gerard giggles around his chopsticks and elbows him gently.

 --

 

When dinner is done, Gerard flops across his lap and groans, eyes drifting shut.

 “That was delicious,” he says, “but I am so fucking full I might die.”

 “I’d rather you didn’t, if it’s all the same,” Grant says idly, and his hand settles in Gerard’s hair immediately, petting it back, surprised at the feel as always; soft and cool.

 “I won’t if you pet me some more,” Gerard tells him pointedly, and at Grant’s consequent line of thought he snorts; blushes, “not- not like that…”

 “Not like that?” Grant laughs, his other hand settling to soothe down Gerard’s sternum, over the gentle curve of his stomach. He loves it when he blushes.

 “I- maybe like that,” Gerard murmurs. His eyes are open now, and he’s watching Grant all pleased and warm, cheeks flushed dark.

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah,” Gerard grins helplessly, “of course.”

 Grant bends low over him, bumping their foreheads, hand still rubbing gentle circles low on Gerard’s stomach. “We don’t have to do anything, I was just-”

 “I want to,” Gerard interrupts, “A lot. I just get-”

 “Nervous. I know that.” Grant smiles, touching under his chin with his fingertips. “Are you nervous now?”

 “Uh, kinda? But not- not nervous of you- more nervous of me.”

 “Why?” Grant stops petting, because Gerard really does look nervous now. He watches him squirm under the scrutiny and fervently wishes he was the one with the freaky mind reading powers.

 “I’m not sure uh- I’ve never, not with a human. I’m.” He pauses, and his eyes go wide, like he’s trying to imbue some kind of meaning into that sort of psychotic expression. Grant blinks.

 “You’re-?”

 “I’m y’know, I’m—” Gerard flounders, then shrugs, “I’m an alien. I have. I have alien junk.”

 Grant has literally no idea what that means.

 “How is alien junk different to human junk?”

 “Trust me, it’s just different. I mean, theoretically, similar, but. Different.” Gerard is blushing indigo now, eyes down. He sits up and looks at Grant almost _guiltily_ , knees up and his arms crossing around them. Shit, Grant doesn’t know what he looks so fucking scared for. He hadn’t exactly expected it to be normal- besides, he’s heard plenty of rumours about Gerard’s fucking- species, or whatever. Genus? He doesn’t know, it never mattered anyway.

 “Is this about the sex LSD thing?” He asks, because tact isn’t his strong suit.

 “No-!” Gerard splutters a laugh. “Shit- well, that too…”

 “I’m not worried. About anything. I mean.” Grant shrugs. “I’m intrigued, to tell you the truth.”

 Gerard peers at him then, and Grant feels little prickles of cold at his temples where he’s looking at him so intently. It’s then he realises he’s probably rifling through his mind, which, all right, is kind of weird but- if it’s important to him, sure.

 “People usually think I’m really freaky…” Gerard says, quietly, and he’s frowning, “you don’t though?”

 “Why would I think you were freaky?” It’s Grant’s turn to look down now, a little embarrassed. Gerard is a psychic alien, it’s not like he didn’t know all of Grant’s motives for taking him on at the time, but he still gets a bit flustered at the idea: he’s not used to being the one who trails around after someone, and Gerard has had him trailing for quite a while now and barely even realised. “You’re just- it doesn’t matter, I don’t think you’re freaky. I think you’re great.”

 “I know…” Gerard bites his lip with his little frosty teeth again.  “I’m just worried you won’t- I, sometimes even people like- from the fucking Seventh think I’m weird, y’know.”

 “I find that hard to believe, Gerard, don’t they all have rocks for faces?”

 “Yeah but that’s my point-?”

 “That’s so- look, Gee.” Grant takes his hands, laughing at him now, just a bit. “We don’t- fucking hell, we don’t have to do anything. That’s not- we don’t _ever_ have to do anything. If you don’t want.”

 It would be a colossal bummer, but well, Grant’s had plenty of those before and been just fine. Gerard quirks his eyebrows at that, but he’s smiling, just a faint blush across his freckled cheeks now.

 “I want to,” he says simply.

 “Yeah?”

 “Definitely,” Gerard nods. Grant smiles helplessly, and holds out his arm, smiling when Gerard shifts against his side, relaxing, looking out the window at the stars again. He’s quiet for a moment, probably just listening to Grant mentally praise his profile, and then he twists where he’s sat and presses a kiss to his lips.

 Grant isn’t sure what he was expecting, but the wave of heat and light headed-ness from that simple contact wasn’t it. Gerard kisses him sweet and careful, cool fingers delicately tracing his jaw, and as Grant opens his mouth to meet the sweep of his tongue with his own he can’t help but shudder at the flash of colour that starts behind his eyes.

 Pulling away breathlessly, Gerard ducks his head, biting his lip.

 “Are you okay-?”

 “I- yeah.” Grant blinks, shaking the sparks from the corners of his eyes. He kisses Gerard this time, shivering at his soft hum of bliss; his hands travelling over Grant’s shoulders. He tastes of coffee and stars, and fuck, Grant can literally see them behind his eyelids. He pulls away, reluctantly, trying to clear his head. Wow. “Is that- does that always happen?”

 “Mm- yeah. Is it- we can stop?” Gerard touches his mouth almost subconsciously, like he’s trying to hide it or make it stop. He looks fucking celestial, ruffled hair and wide eyes and flush lips. Grant shakes his head.

 “No- no, we can’t.” He smiles at him, and shit, he thinks he’s actually weaving. “Unless you want to.”

 “I don’t want to stop, no,” Gerard says quickly, and then he grins as Grant gestures vaguely behind them.

 “Bed then?”

 “Yeah, shit…” Gerard laughs and gets to his feet, taking Grant’s hands to help him up. “Slow down… it’ll wear off fast, and it kind of levels out so- you won’t feel so cuckoo after a bit.”

 “Right…” Grant nods, tugging Gerard unsteadily towards his room. Gerard is kissing him again before they even get to the bed, his fingers working gently to undo his jumpsuit, mouth trailing to the underside of his chin, along his jaw. Grant isn’t sure why Gerard isn’t more shy, he expected shyness- but he’s not complaining, though he feels out of his depth, stranded amidst the weightlessness and dreamlike surreality of Gerard’s weird alien sex vibes.

 Gee strips the jumpsuit down to his waist and Grant holds onto his shoulders, blinking quickly. He can feel his pulse thudding in his ears, but it feels good- everything feels good. His body is pulsing heat and thunder and every time Gerard’s lips brush his skin his heart picks up.

 “Gee…” he says, and his tongue feels thick in his mouth. Gerard glances up, his pretty face refracted into pieces.

 “Sit down… it’s okay, I got you…” He sounds far away. Grant lets himself be steered to the bed and sits, and as Gerard peers at him, cupping his cheeks gently in his hands, his head clears a little.

 “Fucking hell, I’m wasted,” he says dumbly, and Gerard laughs. Grant can see he’s blushing, and he holds onto his hands for a moment, waiting for the trip to subside just a little- not too much though, shit. “Gerard. Are you trying to get me totally fucked so I don’t freak out about your dick?”

 “You’re assuming I have one,” Gerard says, but he looks a little guilty, “I thought it’d be easier for you-?”

 “Bloody hell, Gerard,” Grant closes his eyes, laughing a bit, “well just- stop, okay? I’m- I’m going to be fine, whatever the fuck you’ve got, it’s fine.”

 “I’m sorry… It’s not like- it’s just ‘cause I’m kissing you.”

 “It’s okay. It’s fine. Just- come here.”

 Gerard does, sitting down apologetically beside him. As nice as it is to be off his tits on whatever weird substance Gerard’s contact is dosing him with, Grant doesn’t want to be too high to function- and he definitely doesn’t want to be too high to get Gerard off, whether he has a dick or not.

 “Does it happen just- is there any way you can turn it off?”

 “Uhhh… not really…” Gerard smiles helplessly. “You’ll sort of plateau though? If you want it to wear off then- I have to kiss you less.”

 “That sounds crap,” Grant laments. That gets him a laugh; makes Gerard stop looking so scared. Grant can’t help himself; he leans in, kissing the corner of Gerard’s mouth just gently. When it doesn’t make his head immediately spin off his shoulders, he continues, lips trailing kisses down his throat until he hears Gerard keen softly. That’s better.

 Manoeuvring them carefully, Grant gets Gerard lay down and leans over hum, sucking gently at a spot on his throat that seemingly has him too distracted to be anxious, his breaths coming fast and ragged. Somewhere between this and that, Grant throws an arm out toward the ceiling, waving toward the sensor above the bed, and the lights go out, leaving the room bathed in the soft light from outside.

 “That was smooth-“ Gerard giggles, and Grant mentally snorts. Touching questioningly at the zipper of his jumpsuit, Grant hums when Gerard’s hand comes up and tugs it down for him, squirming out of the sleeves quickly. He giggles again, a little nervously, when Grant’s fingers find the hem of the T-shirt underneath.

 “S’okay?” Grant murmurs. He’s strongly resisting the urge to kiss him again, still staring at his mouth as Gerard nods and smiles. He pulls the shirt off, and when Gerard sits up a little to ruck his own undershirt up around his arms he almost protests, because fuck, he wants to look. Gerard’s skin is pale and pretty as ever, soft lilac veins under translucent skin, those little tiles of colour down his flanks and over his hips- the places he might be colder, Grant realises: his stomach is totally bare. The only thing that really reminds Grant he’s half human is the faint abdominal scar he has where most humans would have a belly button. No nipples, which is fucking bizarre. He realises he must be staring- definitely is staring- because Gerard starts to look awkward. He can hear Grant’s thoughts, too, which probably doesn’t help. He’s not exactly thinking anything negative, but the phrase ‘well that’s fucking weird’ might have circulated a few times.

 “Sorry,” he says quickly, and Gerard laughs at that, uncertain.

 “It’s- it’s okay, I guess I’ve seen human torsos before so I’m not as uh- perplexed.”

 “I’m not perplexed I’m just- you’re so beautiful,” Grant says weakly, and he means it, “I just never saw anything so-” he can’t find it, just the words _amazing, pretty, incredible_ flitting through his mind like rapidly turning pages. None of them are right, but Gerard is rapidly flushing and Grant thinks he gets the idea. When he shoves his hands into the waistband of his jumpsuit and shoves down, that’s when Grant stops staring. He pulls his own shirt off the rest of the way and leans down, catching Gerard’s hands for a moment, stifling his doubtful flicker of expression with another kiss, deep and sure this time.

 He gets a head full of deep water for his impatience, but it’s worth it for the way Gerard’s arms loop around his back to keep him close, his hips arching as he lets Grant pull his jumpsuit the rest of the way down. Pulling away to completely discard the article, Grant strips off his own again, pausing when they’re both just left in their underwear. Gerard puts his hands over his face and laughs weakly.

 “Fuck, you’re gonna freak out.”

 “I’m fairly sure I’m not,” Grant counters, “besides, you might freak out when you see me.”

 “Please. Even if I hadn’t already seen plenty of naked humans by circumstance, human beings and similar species are the predominant consumers of porn- and that porn usually includes humans.” He grins. “I’ve seen porn, ergo, I’ve seen plenty of human junk.”

 Laughing helplessly, Grant kneels back beside him, rolling his eyes.

 “Fine. It must just be you who has the universe’s freakiest junk.”

 “Probably the freakiest junk this side of the Seven.”

 “You are such a downer you know that?”

 “It’s a talent.”

 They’re grinning at each other, but Grant notices that Gerard is starting to look a little resigned, like he thinks he’s talked them both out of it- and fuck, he hasn’t, not at all.

 “Honestly, Gee. If you wanna stop, we can, but I’m happy to carry on even if you have like- fucking tentacles or something down there.” He can’t help but glance at Gerard’s y-fronts at the thought. It doesn’t look particularly tenticular down there.

 “Shit, no, it’s fine-” Gerard laughs weakly, and then he scoops his knees up a little to lift his hips off the mattress as he pulls his underwear off, lowering his feet back to the mattress but keeping his knees up, somewhat hesitant. Grant wants to fucking see what he’s so shy about, but he genuinely doesn’t want Gerard to be uncomfortable, so he just kisses him again; soothes his fingers gently down Gerard’s cool flanks and smiles when he makes a weak noise of pleasure.

 “Really-?” Grant chuckles a bit, because there’s ticklish, and then there’s this, apparently. His head is spinning from the kiss, so he’s finding that pretty easy to ask about.

 “Uh- yeah- these…” he points at the marks on his shoulders. “They’re-” he gestures illustratively, and Grant notices he looks flush, like they’re dilated somehow, which… is fucking weird, “they’re nerves- something like nerves.”

 “So…” Grant flutters his fingers gently down Gerard’s flank again, fascinated when he gasps. “Is that why you’re- why you don’t like people touching you?”

 “Not because I get a fucking- boner at any physical contact, jeez,” Gerard looks down, flushing furiously, “it’s just sensitive- sometimes it hurts y’know.” Grant doesn’t say _wow_ , but he thinks it, and Gerard’s blush deepens.

 “Is that why you bandage the ones on your arms?” It never really occurred to him to ask; he figured it was none of his business, but now it seems like it is.

 “Yeah- it gets a little distracting, is all. And I just- they’re pretty sensitive to heat and stuff.”

 “Huh.” The mystery of Gerard’s genitals momentarily forgotten, Grant leans down and runs his tongue along the scattering of marks that belt the crest of his collar bones, humming in acknowledgement when his breath stutters. _Wow,_ he thinks again, and Gerard grabs at his shoulders as he explores the freckles down the side of his throat and across his shoulders. He’s panting fast and ragged by the time Grant is even close to thinking of moving his attention elsewhere, and at the combined motions of Grant’s hands petting down his ribs and his tongue lapping at his throat, he lets out a noise like he’s fucking falling apart and Grant remembers what he’s doing. He laughs a bit into Gerard’s skin, noting the way he shivers.

 “Are you all right-?”

 “I think so-?” Gerard mumbles, sounding blissed out and shivery. Grant can’t believe he’s that fucking sensitive. “… I’m not usually,” he says. It takes Grant a moment to remember he even thought it.

 “You’re not-?”

 “Yeah, I’m not usually this fucking- easy.”

 “You think this was easy?” Grant teases. Gerard swats at him loosely.

 “I just mean- I think it’s you,” he says helplessly, “it’s ‘cause I like you.”

 Grant pauses, because it feels fucking important that he does. He touches the few freckles on Gerard’s chin, very gently, and kisses the corner of his mouth. “I like you too, Gerard. You already knew that, though.”

 “Well- yeah…” Gerard smiles, but he’s flushed with content, hands drifting over Grant’s skin in a mirroring of his own motions before. He hums, like he’s considering, then he looks up to meet Grant’s gaze, his hair shining in the half light, eyes brighter than so many suns, and gods, Grant is so fucked over this boy. “I wanted- I wanna go down on you, but it’s gonna have you tripping balls. Would you be okay with that?”

 “I’m already tripping balls,” Grant tells him, which is pretty true; the walls have been breathing since Gerard kissed him in the living room. Also: yeah, he’s okay with it, that’s pretty much a given.

 “I know- I’m sorry, it’s… it gets worse when I’m turned on, it’s just- more potent through certain areas of contact.” He bites his lip, and Grant gets a bit caught thinking about his mouth.

 “It’s okay. I’m kind of enjoying it.” Grant grins. ‘Kind of’ is a huge understatement.

 “So I can?”

 “You’ve twisted my arm.”

 It’s Grant’s turn to feel that momentary blast of shyness when Gerard pushes him over, tugging Grant’s boxers off quickly before he kneels between his thighs, leaning over to plant a kiss on him that sends him reeling. Looking at him from this angle, Grant can’t even see whatever weirdness Gerard is quite obviously hiding, but he doesn’t have much time to think about it before Gerard is slinking down his body, mouth trailing soft kisses that leave bursts of light and colour in their wake. Grant’s vision is totally obscured with patterns by the time Gee’s teeth meet the soft inside of his thigh, and when the heat of his mouth suddenly engulfs the tip of his cock, he thinks he might actually have transcended his fucking body.

 “Holy fuck,” he mutters. Gerard hums softly around him in response and Grant sees the pitch of his voice as he groans into his hands. “Gerard- holy _fuck_.”

 Like this, with Gerard sucking him slow and slick, he can feel something else underneath the hallucinogen aspect of the contact, a low, warm burn of something that isn’t just his own desire. It seems to creep beneath his own, soak into the damp fabric of his brain. Gerard is moaning softly around him as he bobs his head, fingers curled loosely around him, and that’s when Grant realises that the aching want underlying his own is Gerard’s.

  _You’re in my head,_ he thinks dizzily, and Gerard’s need flares like oxygen fed to fire, startling a moan out of Grant with its intensity.

  _I’m always in your head._

 Grant writhes upward into the heat of Gerard’s mouth before he can stop himself, brain full of words and pictures and those bright flares of colour, things he’s never seen before, all breathing _yes, fuck, please, more._ He’s overwhelmed, oversaturated, but underneath it all Gerard is still sucking him, long licks of his tongue and strokes of his mouth. Over and over, deeper and deeper, for endless minutes until Grant is straining to keep himself still. Prying his eyes open, Grant watches the hollow of Gerard’s cheeks; watches him swallow him down, and fuck, he doesn’t even know if he’ll survive this. There’s so much noise, so much _feeling_.

 Gerard was right though, the psilocybin-like effect he has is starting to plateau in Grant’s blood stream, somehow, and now underneath the kaleidoscope in his irises he can almost start to make sense of the million volts of sensation crammed into his skin. Above everything, there’s Gerard and his fucking mouth, sucking him off like he’s done it a thousand times before, like he knows exactly what Grant wants. From the way he concentrates on sucking, soft and open mouthed, at the vein where dick meets balls in a way that makes him literally shake with _yes_ , Grant suspects he does.

  _Psychic_ , he explains to himself, loopily, and at the word, Gerard muffles a soft laugh against his skin and rewards him with his hand firmly stroking at the base of his cock as he sucks the head into his mouth and whirls his tongue. Grant’s rapidly impending orgasm is fed to even greater intensity by the answering _ache_ Gerard is transmitting, and he can only shake and moan into his clasped hands as Gerard teases it out of him; spreads one gentle hand over his stomach as he shakes through it.

 When it finally fades, Grant feels curiously light, and it takes him a moment to register that his feelings are all his own again, even if he is still tripping absolute balls.

 “Are you okay?” Gerard asks, voice hoarse, and Grant gathers himself enough to sit up and pull him close, oblivious to the slightly protective turn of Gerard’s body. He hides his face in his shoulder and stays there for a long moment, breathing hard. It’s only when he notices Gerard is tense that he realises he’s probably trying not to get fucking worked up by Grant’s breath on his skin.

 “I’m- sorry, I’m fine,” he breathes, stroking his hair back helplessly, “shit, yeah, I’m okay.”

 Gerard’s smiling, and Grant feels his heart clench weakly as he looks up at him.

 “That was…”

 “Okay?” Gerard hazards.

 “Fuck… are you kidding?”

 “Yeah.” He’s grinning. Grant laughs and shakes his head, leaning into his palm when Gerard cups his cheek. “I liked it too.”

 “I- yeah, I know,” Grant blinks the remaining blotches of light from his eyes, nosing into Gerard gently, “shit, I could feel…”

 “It’s pretty cool, right?”

 “Yeah- cool, that’s what I’d call it.” Grant rolls his eyes a bit, but he’s still holding onto Gerard, legs loosely folded around him where he’s knelt. “Can I do that to you?”

 “You- probably not the ball tripping thing.”

 “That’s not the bit I meant…” Grant cups his face in his hands, smiling when Gerard immediately shivers. “Can I?”

 “Yeah- yeah, of course, if you’re-?”

 “You know I’m sure,” Grant says gently. Gerard nods, blushing hard. He lies down at Grant’s gentle urging, and Grant kisses him deeply as he settles between his knees, palms soothing the shakes from his thighs. He doesn’t stop kissing and petting him, not until Gerard’s hands are fluttering on his shoulders and he’s keening again from the motions of Grant’s hands and mouth, arching toward him. Grant blinks the strange, coloured rain from his eyes as he pulls away and sits back to finally look at what Gerard is so convinced he’s going to freak out at.

 He stares, and then glances up, and grins helplessly.

 “You’re right, that’s pretty weird.”

 “Grant-!” Gerard protests, covering his face with his hands.

 “No- no, it’s not- it’s not bad, it’s- shit, I just have no idea where to start.”

 Gerard was right, there’s no guarantee there’s a dick anywhere here. There’s no guarantee there’s anything Grant would consider vaguely humanoid here. The only way Grant can even begin to describe it is… floral. Soft, pale folds of skin, more little veins and blotches of nerves. It seems… fucking, small, and neat, and kind of… He tilts his head, considering, and then reaches out tentatively to brush one gentle thumb against the flush skin. Gerard shivers, but he’s hiding behind his hands, blushing furiously at Grant’s mental analysis.

 “Well, it’s pretty fucking stunning, whatever it is.” Grant says, because seriously, he’s never seen prettier junk on anyone. Gerard whines and he laughs, softly. “I’m sorry, it just is. Can you- can you help me out-? Is this- is this female? Male? I don’t- I mean, if- if that’s not too…”

 “Shit, no, it’s fine… uh, I guess it’s technically both.” Gerard lowers his hands, just a little, and peers at Grant with big eyes over his fingers. “It’s- the top part is … male? I guess, and the internal part is- is female, I guess, by your standards. I’m not sure it’s either? I just- I dunno, ‘he’ works for me- but yeah I. I think it’s pretty neutral.”

  _Internal? Oh. Okay._

 “So…” Grant tilts his head. Honestly, it kind of reminds him of an orchid. Delicate and smooth lines, with an approximation of what could be a dick, but could honestly be- the female equivalent, and shit, he thinks Gerard might be right, it’s probably pretty difficult to gender this stuff. He seems to have about as much idea as Grant does.

 “I know- fucking- how it works,” Gerard protests weakly. He’s sitting up now, gesturing, looking entirely distressed to be having this talk. Grant soothes his hands over his shoulders to calm him, nodding when Gerard relaxes incrementally.

 “How does it work then? I don’t want to upset you I just- I want to know, so I know what- I don’t want to hurt you or anything.”

 “I- fuck, this bit’s kind of- like,” Gerard bites his lip, touching at himself illustratively. Grant pretends it doesn’t make his stomach throb with interest at the image. “It responds like yours, y’know? It- fucking, grows or- whatever…”

 “Okay…” Grant nods, reaching out to grab Gerard’s free hand gently, steadying him.

 “And the lower bit… there’s- shit, you can, I have-” Gerard obviously hasn’t had to- or tried to- explain this to many people before, because he can’t find the words; just sits up a little and tugs Grant’s hand gently, guiding it to the base of his cock where the skin dips and Grant’s fingers find soft and flush, flesh giving as Gee guides him in with two. Inside he’s wet, and hot, and, fuck.

 “I see.” Grant swallows thickly, getting the gist pretty quickly, letting him rock his fingers. Gerard gasps, and when Grant looks up at him he’s nodding, eyes a little misty and jaw slack.

 “That okay-?” Grant asks, even though it looks pretty okay, to him. Gerard nods again fast, holding onto him. Looking down, Grant maps him carefully with his fingers as he fucks him, searching out what makes him gasp and once, at a particularly deep beckon of his fingers, squeak in surprise. He can’t help but notice that Gerard’s dick- or clit? Or something - does seem bigger now, swollen and flush. Experimentally, he rubs his thumb gently against the underside, and Gerard whines and hides his face forcefully in his shoulder.

 “M’gonna- hang on, Gee,” he murmurs, and then dips his head to take him into his mouth. The explosion of heat and fireworks in his head isn’t exactly a surprise by now, but the way Gerard’s body reacts, the organ in his mouth filling out against his tongue, kind of is. It’s pretty good, though. Gerard tastes sweet and sharp, and at the new angle, the motion of Grant’s fingers is making him pant hard.

 “Oh fuuck…” Gerard’s hands scatter over his shoulders, searching for purchase. He’s tipping his head back, relaxing back reluctantly as Grant fucks him with his mouth and with his fingers, his back bridging off the mattress. “Fuck- fuck-!”

 He still seems nervous, and Grant concentrates on showing him how much he wants him, how much he likes this, transmitting it as loud as he can until he hears him keen and cry out. Grant groans weakly; fucks him a little faster, sucking steadily. The taste of him, the wet in the back of his throat, it’s making him so much fucking higher than Gerard’s kisses fucking did, but he can’t stop, especially not now Gerard is clutching and squirming beneath him.

 He can feel that insistent throb of Gerard’s arousal again, a quiet stream of sensation under the heavy traffic of his own brain, and it makes him arch slowly against the sheets as he works Gerard harder with his mouth. He’s hardening against his tongue still, so much bigger than when they started, making his jaw ache pleasantly. Grant dips his chin to slide him deeper into the back of his throat, and he feels the texture of the base of him against his lower lip; hears Gerard’s quiet gasp. Humming gently, he slips his tongue over the bumps in the tissue there and almost laughs at the full body twitch the action elicits.

 “ _Fuck! Grant--_ ”

 Continually fucking him with his fingers, he feels slick coating his knuckles and the back of his hand now as he strokes inside him, and as he licks over and over that spot again, he feels Gerard tighten abruptly around him.

 “Grant-” Gerard says weakly, almost pleading, warning. His knuckles are white on Grant’s shoulders, body glowing with sweat, his hair a messy platinum halo against the sheets. Grant hears his name again, verbally or otherwise, and he raises his head somewhat reluctantly, licking at Gerard fleetingly before he looks at him. Gerard looks wrecked, and he can’t help but be a little smug. Not bad considering he practically needed a fucking labelled diagram.

 “Gee-?”

 “Mmyeah- I- I wanna-” he pulls at him, and Grant goes, beckoned by the tiny echoes he can here. _Come here_ and _wanna feel you_ and _fuck me_. His mouth goes dry at that, and if he hadn’t already come his brains right the fuck out, he’d probably be doing it right now. The urgency Gerard is telegraphing seems so surreal compared to the quiet, calm, withdrawn guy he’s used to.

 “Yeah-?” He asks softly, moving over Gee, arms carefully framing him on the mattress.

 “Yeah, can we-? Wanna fuck, I want you, is that-?” How Gerard can even consider being uncertain when he can read Grant’s fucking mind, he has no idea.

 “It’s okay, yeah, Gee.” He noses into him for a second, then grabs gently at his hip with one hand while he shifts.

 “Wait-” Gerard grabs his shoulders.

 “What-?”

 “I wanna- I wanna go on top.”

 “Shit.” Grant can’t even do anything but go with the push of his arms, letting Gerard roll them over neatly; brace himself on his knees as he sits up, shifting in Grant’s lap. Taking hold of his hips, Grant can’t stop fucking watching him and the lights that pulse off his skin, just moving with the arch of Gerard’s hips and the nudge of his thighs against his flanks. He pushes up into the accepting rock of Gerard’s hips, groaning as he sinks into him, floored at the wetness of his cunt around him. “Gee…”

 “Mmyeah.” Gerard rocks a little, leaning forward to brace himself against Grant’s chest; let him pulse his hips up into him. “Fuck- yes--”

 Grant is getting fuzzier than ever, mind churning like ink dripped into water. All he can feel is Gerard, mentally, physically, emotionally. It’s fucking bliss, though. He can feel every urge and encouraging moan and physical impulse like it were his own, every moment synchronised and perfect. They’re clutching at one another hard enough to bruise, he’s sure of it, and Gerard makes a sweet, raw sound with every drag of Grant inside him, like he’ll die without the next one, like he’s never felt anything like it. Grant definitely fucking hasn’t; Gerard is slick and deep and yet he can still feel the plush weight of his cock trapped between their bellies, spotting damp against their skin, slippery with sweat. He’s close- or Gerard is, maybe both, and the patterns at the edges of his vision of getting hotter and brighter and more insistent.

 “Ah- fuck,” Gerard looks so perfectly deconstructed, wild and uninhibited. He tips his head back as he surges his hips faster into Grant’s motions, jaw slacked and hair stuck up. Impulsively, or because there’s quiet, urgent notions tugging him to do so, Grant curls his hand gently around him and strokes. He goes carefully, listening to every tiny frisson of feeling in response, and Gerard is bucking into his hand, fucking himself so that when he moans sharply, back arching, and comes, he takes Grant right along with him. “ _Oh, fuck-!_ ”

 Grant is literally deaf with pleasure for a good minute, and when he comes slowly back down, he’s clinging to Gerard like an anchor, feeling him shaking.

 “S’okay- s’okay- fuck, you’re so…” he can’t even find the words; just savours the heat and slick of Gerard shivering against him, tightening up, clutching like he can’t bear to let go. He wraps his arms around Grant and keeps hold; keeps rocking his hips like he isn’t quite done. “Gee--”

 “S-sorry-” Gerard bites his lip, and shit, he isn’t done, Grant can feel he’s not, but he’s fucking oversensitive after two orgasms. Two fucking insane acid trip orgasms.

 “Hang on.” He kisses him; shifts them so Gerard is on his back, blinking slowly at the ceiling. Dropping down, Grant curls that careful hand around him again, stroking slick up his shaft, and presses his mouth to Gerard’s cunt, tongue seeking out the spot that made him seize up like he did earlier.

 He finds it easy enough: Gerard accidentally kicks him when he finds the twin bumps with the tip of his tongue, clasping his hands over his face and apologising weakly. Ignoring it, Grant just keeps at it, licking and stroking. Gerard comes again within a ten second stretch, crying out high and desperate, and with the last roll of his hips he floods wet against Grant’s tongue and chin. Honestly, it’s not even the most surprising thing that has happened tonight, so he just licks him through it, humming when Gerard finally pushes him away by his shoulders.

 They lie for a moment, both panting and damp, and then Grant looks up to where Gerard is still staring blearily at the ceiling.

 “Okay?” He asks softly.

 “Fucking kidding?” Gerard echoes. He looks down at him, shivering at the sight. “You?”

 “I- fuck, Gerard. I’m literally tripping balls and I just had the best sex of my life. I’m good.”

 Mouth crooking in a smile, Gerard reaches out to lace their fingers.

 “Yeah? Me too.”

 “Oh come on, I didn’t even fucking know what I was doing,” Grant snorts. Gerard squeezes his hand, pulling him up to lie beside him, arranging himself against his flank.

 “You did all right.”

 “Well, if you say so.” He slings an arm around him, cradling him close. He can’t remember feeling this good in… a fucking while.

 “I do.”

 Humming in content, Grant lets the silence settle for a minute, watching the last of the sparks die on the edges of his vision. He strokes through Gerard’s damp hair; presses a kiss there.

 “So- you’re kind of genderless, really? Does it not bother you that we kind of think you’re a boy?”

 “Naw, some people on this ship don’t think I’m a boy. On my records it says ‘Not Applicable’, so I don’t really worry about it. Honestly, either suits me fine.”

 “But you don’t prefer being neither?”

 “No, I think it’s interesting what people pick, really. It’s funny ‘cause women tend to think I’m a dude, and men tend to think I’m female. You didn’t, though.”

 “No, I dunno. I guess it didn’t really occur to me. Maybe it depends on the preference of the individual.”

 Gerard is smiling at him, fingers trailing gently over his chest. He hums, kissing at a rogue scar on Grant’s shoulder, courtesy of various bar scrapes, he can’t remember which.

 “Maybe. Like I said, I think I’m biologically kinda both, or neither, so. I dunno.”

 “Yeah.” Grant thinks about, then peers at him. “Can you get pregnant then?” It doesn’t matter, Grant has had an implant since he was old enough to fuck, but it’s still interesting.

 “Uuuuh, I think so.” Gerard grins a bit, blushing. “I’m pretty sure?”

 “What makes you pretty sure? Were you not worried about me knocking you up?”

 “Well, I uh. I just know. And- shit, Grant, I’m a mind reader.”

 “Oh.” Grant thinks about the implications of that; isn’t sure if he wants to know. He wonders idly what Zoid will make of it.

 Gerard huffs.

 “Shit, sorry-”

 “It’s fine, I know you tell her everything,” he grouses. Grant nudges him.

 “Yeah, which you love, because it makes her more intrigued about you, and you fancy the pants off her.”

 “Did she tell you that-??”

 “She didn’t need to, it’s fucking obvious.” Grant is laughing now, dodging a limp swat of Gerard’s hand. “Shit, okay, sorry!”

 “Do you two like compare notes on what a nerd I am?” Gerard whines. Grant can’t help but laugh, pulling the sheets over them where it’s starting to cool down.

 “Of course we do, you know that.”

 Pouting, Gerard rubs his face into Grant’s neck and sighs.

 “You’re so mean.”

 “No. I’m not. I love you.” Grant insists. Gerard looks up.

 “I know you do.”

 “I know you know. You’ve always known,” Grant grumbles. Nodding a bit, Gerard smiles; sits up and kisses him soundly, making flowers bloom in the dark of his mind.

 “I love you too,” he says happily. Grant folds his arms around him tighter, feeling warmth flood his chest. The way they said it, it doesn’t sound as be-all-and-end-all as all that, but it feels- it feels good. It feels right.

 “Thank you.”

 Flopping down again, Gerard settles in close, and Grant marvels at how good he feels and smells and tastes; how well he fits against him. He listens to his breathing in the dark; feels the soft thrum of his pulse where his chest is pressed to Grant’s flank.

 He fumbles for his compad, and taps out a message to Zoid.

  _ >>Progress report: best sex of my life, I’m going to marry him and you should too.<< _

 He tosses it to one side, not waiting for a reply, and settles back down. He’s just drifting off when Gerard laughs and kisses his ear.

 “Marry me, huh? I didn’t even know they did that anymore.”

  _Psychic_ , he reminds himself, and tugs Gerard down for a kiss.

 


End file.
